


and it's like the sky is new

by Gryphoness



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tangled (2010) Fusion, Arya/Cat is Eugene/Flynn, Cersei is Gothel, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Implied/Referenced Emotional/Psychological Abuse, J plus B equals M and T, Tommen is Rapunzel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:53:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gryphoness/pseuds/Gryphoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And we're living happily ever after." "Yes we are." - But what you didn't see was all the time between coming home and their story being told. Learning to be prince can be hard. Adjusting to life outside a tower can be harder. Once upon a time, there was a girl who stole a crown and a boy who learned who he really was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. now's when my life begins

**Author's Note:**

> So, this little series was born of my friends and I having feels over Tangled and making up a Tomya Tangled AU. Rather than rehash the plot of the movie with ASOIAF characters, I decided to write up a series of connected ficlets set in that universe, after the main plot of the movie ends, and Tommen is home.

After what felt like forever, the hug they were wrapped in slowly ended. Tommen very nearly whined at the loss of contact, but managed somehow to stay silent. That hug had been the first time in all his eighteen years that he had felt truly, entirely _surrounded_ by love, and he was loathe to relinquish that feeling. Still kneeling on the ground of the balcony, he took in his true mother's face with wide eyes. She was not a great beauty, as Mother - Mother, Mother, but she wasn't **truly** his Mother, and yet he had no other name for her - had been, but there was a tenderness and affection in her eyes that made him think her one of the prettiest women he had ever seen.

She cupped his face between her hands, and Tommen found himself biting his lip, waiting and wondering and hoping. Mothers were supposed to love their children, but this Mother didn't know him. He had been raised by another Mother, had been stolen from his real Mother. (Mother had said she loved him, but she'd also said she was his Mother, and that had turned out to be a lie. Mother's love must have been a lie too.)

His real Mother kissed his forehead, and his lips curled upwards. Instinctively, his hand lifted up and curled around her wrist, and the reality of this - Being at the palace, Outside his Tower, with his real parents - filled him with sudden jitters."He looks just like you," She murmured, and it took Tommen a moment to realize she wasn't speaking to him, but to the man who was still kneeling behind her. Looking over her shoulder, he met the King's eyes, his Father's eyes. They were mirrors of his own, as Mother's had been. Looking at this man, this Father, felt almost like looking at himself, if he was older. "It's striking."

Despite himself, he felt a rush of warmth creep up his neck, and he looked around for Arya. He'd lost track of her, somehow, in the rush of his family's embrace, and he needed to know where she was now.

"I'm here," Her now-familiar voice said in his ear, and he felt her hand rest atop his own. Anxiety easing some, Tommen turned his hand over and let his fingers find the spaces between hers. As long as Arya was here, things would be alright. Arya and Ser Pounce were the only constants left in his life, he needed them if he was to stay sane.

"Why don't we go inside?" A new voice broke the silence, and Tommen's eyes searched the source out to find a girl a year or so his elder sitting beside his Father. "I'm sure we'd all be more comfortable there." _We,_ He thought dizzily, _We. Us. Our. We're a we. This is my family. I belong with these people._

His Father stood first, then helped his Mother and the Girl to their feet. His Mother took his hand and helped him to stand, and Arya rose as he did, connected as they still were by their linked hands. Together, the five of them crossed the balcony and entered the heavy oaken doors. Looking back later, Tommen would never quite be able to remember how they got from there to the small parlor they ended up in.

"So," His Father said as they sat down, he, his Mother, and the Girl across from Tommen and Arya, but close enough that all their knees were touching, "Cat of the Canals steals my son's crown and returns with my son himself."

Arya's chin tilted downwards, abashed, and Tommen squeezed her hand. "It's Arya, actually, Your Majesty," She replied, "Arya Stark."

"Arya Stark," His real Mother repeated, and Tommen thought he saw a wisp of a smile on her face, "Well, Arya Stark, it seems we owe you a great debt."

"It's nothing," Arya said, biting her lip.

"Oh, but it is," The Girl interjected brightly, "You brought the Lost Prince home. For that, you would be given any reward you would ask for."

Arya lifted her head, and Tommen thought of their time with the not-so-rough ruffians from the Peach, and the 'dream' Arya had given them. To be alone, in a place she'd bought for herself, surrounded by treasures she'd stolen. Then her eyes met his, and the love her saw there made his belly feel all fluttery. For a long moment, everything was silent as they looked at each other.

_You were my new dream._ Her dying words echoed in his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

And then his own voice, choked through tears. _And you were mine._

As if she was reading his mind, Arya brushed her thumb against his cheek as if wiping away an imaginary tear. Finally, she turned to face his Parents again, and when she spoke, her voice was suddenly shy. "I'd like to stay with Tommen, please."

"Tommen?" His Father asked, a look of puzzlement crossing his face.

Oh, he was just as ditzy as Mother said! He hadn't even told them who he was!

"Er," He stammered, "Um, yes. That's me. I mean... My name is Tommen."

For a moment, the three strangers who were called his family stared at him. Then, after a long pause, his real Mother took his free hand in hers. "Of course. We should have known the Kidnapper wouldn't have kept the name we gave you. Your name is Tommen, you say?"

He nodded, not quite able to meet her eyes.

"Then that is what you'll be called. Welcome home, Tommen."


	2. once upon a dream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a gentle reminder that I do not own anything you see here. The ASOIAF characters belong to George R. R. Martin, and Tangled belongs to Disney.

Tommen stared up at the ceiling, his eyes barely making out the faint patterns the moonlight was painting above his bed. Lying beside him on the pillow, Ser Pounce curled up against his face, and licked his cheek. He giggled at the scratchy sensation, bringing his hand up to stroke the feline between the ears, the way he knew his little companion liked. "Go to sleep, Pounce," He whispered, "They said we need to rest." This new bed was much bigger than his one in the Tower, and he felt a little adrift lying alone in the middle. 

He wished he still had his hair to wrap up in, but Arya had cut his hair, and now it fell just past his chin. He wished Arya could be with him, but his Mother and Father had looked at them funny when his Father had declared it was bedtime, and Tommen had a feeling that they wouldn't want them sharing a room. (He couldn't quite figure out why.) He hadn't slept since the morning of his birthday, and he was so tired....

 

* * *

 

A bone-chilling scream spilled from his lips as his eyes snapped open, images of Mother falling out the window and Arya dying in his arms fading as he rubbed blearily at his eyes. Sobs ripped themselves from his chest, shaking his body. He jumped as he heard the door crash open, hearing feet pound on the floor. "Your Highness?" Someone asked, but Tommen couldn't catch his breath, curling himself into a ball and shaking from the force of his sobs.

"Tommen!" Glancing up at the sound of his name, he saw his Mother and Father sit on the edge of the bed, and his Mother took his hand in hers.

"What is it?" His Father asked, "Tommen, are you alright?"

He shook his head in response, chest heaving and lungs aching, and yet he couldn't stop crying.

"Everything's secure, Sire," He heard someone - A guard, he assumed - report, "No physical threat anywhere."

He heard a thud in the hallway and glanced up just in time to see Arya go skidding past the open door. 

"Tommen!"

At the sound of her voice, a sob caught in his chest. As he watched, she ducked into the room and squirmed through the cluster of guards standing near the door. "Hey! Let me in."

"Arya," He whimpered, reaching out with his free hand, vision clouding with fresh tears. 

"Let her through." His father ordered, and the guards exchanged a look before parting obediently. As soon as they moved, Arya darted to his side, clambering onto the bed beside him and wrapping her arms around him.

"Shh, shh, take it easy. Take it easy, Sunshine. What's the matter?"

"You-You were dead," He sobbed, clinging to her with his free hand, "M-Mother stabbed you, and you cut my hair so I couldn't fix you and you _died."_

"Shh, it's okay," She soothed, lifting a hand to run it through his curls, "It's okay. I'm alright now, remember?" She took his hand in his and pressed it to her side, over the spot where Mother's knife had sunk into her skin. "Everything's okay. It's not the first time I've been stabbed. She can't hurt anybody anymore. We're safe, you're home."

At the word _home_ , Tommen felt his real Mother wrap his arms around him from his other side, and the mattress dipped as Myrcella sat down beside her. "You're home, Tomm," Arya repeated, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and he felt her smile when his Father pulled them all into his arms. He sighed, resting his head against someone's shoulder - He wasn't sure whose - and let his eyes fall closed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my babe Mitchi, who is writing a fabulous prequel to this fic: [At Last I See the Light](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5503838/chapters/12712505)


	3. caring and devoted hearts

Tommen was sitting on his sister's bed, watching curiously as a handmaid helped Myrcella pin her hair up. It astounded him, all the ways women Outside styled their hair. He wondered if his hair would have been easier to manage if he had been able to use all the hairdos he now had seen. Mother -- who he had learned was really named _Cersei_ , his aunt -- had braided it when he was little and his hair was more manageable, but as it got longer and longer, it become harder to handle and any attempts to braid it had only led to painful tangles.

He was getting used to the idea of having a sister. A Sister, he had learned, was someone who had the same Mother and Father as you, and they were important.

Myrcella seemed to be a very good Sister. (Not that he had anyone else to compare her with). Myrcella was kind and friendly, and she didn't seem bothered when he had questions, the way Mother -- Cersei, he had to remember that, _Cersei_ , not Mother -- had.

Tommen thought Myrcella looked a lot like Mother Cersei. His Father had explained that Cersei was his Sister, and so Tommen and Myrcella looked like her because they looked like Father, and Father and Mother Cersei looked alike.

That was also why Tommen looking at Myrcella was almost like looking in a mirror. They had the same eyes and hair, and their faces were alike. And that was because she was his Sister. That made them special. 

She told him stories, about the few months that he had lived with his real family. She always made sure to tell him, over and over, that she and their parents loved him.

"I thought about you every day," she told him once, "I imagined what you would be like, what sort of things you were doing. I always knew you'd come home to us."

Tommen looked down. "I didn't even know you existed," he mumbled. That made him feel bad. His family had been missing him all these years, and he hadn't even known.

"That isn't your fault, Tommen," Myrcella said softly, taking his hands in hers, "You were stolen from us when you were just a baby."

Tommen wondered if he would spend his whole life trying to catch up on the eighteen years he missed.


End file.
